


Link

by theirhappystory



Series: Quick Hands and Cold Blood [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bratva (Arrow), Bratva Oliver Queen, F/M, Hacker Felicity Smoak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-29 13:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirhappystory/pseuds/theirhappystory





	Link

**Felicity**

“Your friend seems nice.”

Felicity can’t help the sarcastic comment from escaping her as she watches Oliver’s supermodel of a business associate exit the club. A wave of something dangerously close to jealousy crashed over her when she saw Oliver whispering with the woman earlier. However, that quickly dissipated as she was introduced and became aware of the obvious animosity between them. Not that it mattered to her what kind of female companionship Oliver had. Not one bit.

“She’s a walk in the park. Very amicable.”

“I think we were this close to braiding each other’s hair.”

He huffs a laugh at that, something Felicity considers a small victory. But then she remembers what Isabel said to Oliver before she left and it causes her to worry. 

“You know I can do this without you here. We can meet up like last time once I have all the information pulled off the hard drive.”

“Is this your way of saying you don’t want me here?”

“No!”

Without thinking she reaches out to place her hand atop his where it’s resting casually on the table. The contact startles Felicity, even though she’s the one who initiated it. Her eyes widen and she quickly withdraws her hand into her lap, a light blush painting her cheeks as she continues.

“No, that’s not what I meant at all. I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss. Isabel made it sound really bad that you’re missing this meeting.”

Oliver merely waves a hand in dismissal.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve missed a meeting. I have other interests outside of our business.”

There’s no way she’s imagining the intensity in his gaze as he speaks that last part. His bright blue eyes are locked on hers, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Okay, she needs to get a grip. Bad hormones! 

Clearing her throat, Felicity averts her gaze to the laptops sitting in front of her. The initial scan she was running is finished, and she quickly begins to look over the diagnostics.

“Right, well good news is it looks like I can still link up to your hard drive. So hopefully you’ll have a good reason for not being in attendance. What am I looking for on here exactly?”

“Blueprints.”

“Are you and Isabel building a summer home?”

She can’t resist teasing him, just a little more. It has nothing to do with the almost imperceptible, but still present smile he gives her whenever she does. Nope, not at all.

“Cute.”

“I do my best.”

Silence engulfs them as Felicity begins to pull up information stored on the now deceased computer. It’s comfortable, the silence, not an awkward moment of unsurety between strangers like one would expect. She glances up every now and then to either find Oliver’s gaze fixed on her or doing a quick scan of the club. He’s done that every time they’ve interacted and again it intrigues her. Felicity is just about to question him when he speaks up.

“How did you get involved in all of this?”

Although a fairly commonplace question, his inquiry causes Felicity to tense up, fingers pausing over the keyboard. This is a difficult subject for her. It’s not typically something her clients ask, so for the most part she can easily avoid talking about it. Even for those who do ask she evades it. With Oliver, however, she doesn’t want to do that. She trusts him, oddly enough, and wants him to trust her, too.

“Computers were my dad’s thing. My mom can hardly even send a text message properly. One time, she failed to tell me she was coming to visit because she forgot to press ‘send’. Imagine my shock and extreme mortification when the door to my dorm room flew open right as Cooper and I were rounding third base. Not that my mom cared, actually I’m pretty sure she gave him a high-five.”

A clearing of a throat, Oliver’s throat, disrupts her ramble. Heat floods her cheeks as she gets back on track.

“Sorry, that was TMI and completely off topic. Like I said, computers were my dad’s thing. He was always messing with some piece of technology out in our garage, looking like a mad scientist with all his experiments. When I was old enough, I started sitting in there with him and watching. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, seeing him build all these incredible things from scratch. Then I realized he wasn’t a mad scientist at all. He was a magician, and I wanted to learn all the secrets to his magic tricks. So I did.”

Tears pool in her eyes, and Felicity quickly reaches up to wipe at them with the back of her hand, ignoring Oliver’s concerned gaze as she continues.

“He died of cancer when I was eight, one week after I built my first computer all by myself. After that it was just me and my mom, doing what we could to get by.”

She looks up from the keyboard she didn’t realize she was staring at, expecting to find pity in Oliver’s eyes. Instead, however, she finds understanding, a kind of remembered sadness that only comes from those who have shared a similar experience.

“Felicity… I’m sorry you had to go through that, especially when you were so young. Losing a parent is never easy, regardless of age. But eight...”

This time when their hands touch, it’s Oliver who initiates the contact, and he doesn’t let go. He places one large hand on top of her overlapping ones where they lay on the table, fingers wrapping in a gentle hold. Felicity draws in a quick breath at the heat from his touch, blood rushing through her just a little bit faster than normal. Then he squeezes her hand in a brief gesture of comfort before withdrawing it almost reluctantly. The exchange lasts for only a handful of seconds, but in those seconds it feels like they are suspended in time. 

“I lost my father a couple years ago. He was on his way to China for business when his yacht got caught in a storm. There were no survivors. That kind of loss stays with you, changes you.”

It’s surprising that Oliver is telling her this. She gets the feeling that he isn’t one to divulge personal information to people he barely knows, considering he never even gave her his last name. But then again neither did she.

“Yeah, it does.”

The computer dings with an alert, quickly drawing Felicity’s focus. Multiple windows begin to pull up on her screen, a sea of blue and white print. 

“Are these the blueprints you’re looking for?”

She turns the laptop around, careful of the wires still connecting it to the other computer, and shows it to Oliver. He studies them quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a delighted smirk.

“These are  _ exactly _ the blueprints I’m looking for.”

Felicity quickly begins to copy the files onto a USB drive as Oliver reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick manilla envelope. She stares at the parcel, guilt settling in as she recalls the last time he paid her.

“I can’t accept that.”

He tilts his head, eyes squinting in confusion at her statement.

“Why not?”

“You paid me almost triple what I would have asked for last time. I would feel bad swindling you again.”

A short laugh comes from Oliver as he shakes his head in amusement, sliding the envelope across the table as he responds.

“Trust me, this is pocket change.”

Felicity eyes the package incredulously, estimating by size alone that the bills inside add up to just as much as, if not more than last time.

“Those must be some pretty deep pockets.”

Oliver merely shrugs in reply.

“They keep my hands warm.”

Did he just…  _ joke  _ with her? This might be the apocalypse.

She’s just about to call him out on breaking his broody facade when a tall, gangly figure appears at the side of the booth. He’s wearing a deep purple flannel and wide rimmed glasses, and Felicity quickly recognizes him from her Advanced Coding seminar. They worked on a group project together a few weeks ago.

“Hey, Smoak.”

“Hi, Curtis. What’s up?”

She’s surprised he approached her with Oliver sitting across the table. Curtis for the most part keeps to himself, but once she set her mind to getting to know him during their project Felicity learned just how funny and genuine a guy he is. It just took a little effort to break the ice.

“That algorithm I’ve been working on has some weak links. I could use a second pair of eyes, if you have a sec.”

His eyes slide to where Oliver is sitting across the table for less than a second, before they dart back to Felicity. She smiles warmly at him in reply.

“Sure, let me just finish this up real quick and I’ll come take a look.”

Curtis gives her a smile of his own at that.

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

With an awkward half-wave that prompts Felicity to laugh just a little, her fellow hacker makes his exit. Shaking her head good naturedly, she returns her attention to Oliver, who has a curious look on his face.

“Sorry about that interruption.”

“Smoke?”

His reply confuses her, causing Felicity’s eyebrows to pinch together as she questions him.

“Huh?”

“That kid called you ‘smoke’ when he walked up.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s my last name. S-m-o-a-k. I guess I never did tell you that. I tend to leave out last names for these jobs as a security measure. Which is a moot point now. Anyway, this is all done and ready to go.”

Felicity slides the flash drive across the table to Oliver. He snatches it off the smooth surface and shoves it in the pocket of his jeans. She fidgets in her seat when he returns his contemplative gaze to her person, studying her as he considers the piece of personal information she just gave away. Maybe clarifying for Oliver wasn’t such a good idea. She should have come up with some sort of fake story. Like her hair started burning when she was straightening it or something and now her friends call her ‘Smoke’. That happens to people sometimes, right?

“Oliver Queen. My full name.”

Oh. That… wasn’t at all what she was expecting him to say.

She studies him for a moment, assessing the weight of his words.

“Well, Oliver Queen, I hope to do business again with you in the future.”

“Me too, Felicity Smoak.”


End file.
